


A Doctor's Duty

by Indigo_WarPhish



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Pon Farr, unwilling bottom McCoy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-02
Updated: 2013-07-07
Packaged: 2017-12-17 12:03:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 7,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/867305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Indigo_WarPhish/pseuds/Indigo_WarPhish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Doctor Leonard McCoy can handle any strange medical crisis.<br/>Any except this one..</p><p>And as per the requirements<br/>** I do not own any of the character in the following story. They belong to a large and fearsome organization.**</p><p>Please enjoy!<br/>More chapters to come soon.<br/>Slight caution for rape. You know how Pon Farr is...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Last Minute Decision

**Author's Note:**

> *Does the Vulcan Medical Council have written textbooks?  
> Probably not; however, I would like to think that maybe back before things became 'modern' that their ancient practices were hand written on awesome scrolls before everything became digitized.  
> *For McCoy to have books rather than a digital media copy would be nice, especially since the Vulcans would not just e-mail copies of their highly kept secrets of anatomy to everyone in the quadrant. But in the case of Spock serving in Starfleet, it would be logical. *nods*

“Porn- _What_!?” 

 The Chief Medic flipped angrily through the worn textbooks he managed to obtain from Vulcan’s ancient libraries. Through what was essentially constant nagging, he convinced the Vulcan council to donate copies of their medical textbooks to Starfleet. What was the point in having no medical information on hand on Vulcan physiology when there was one in the Academy?

“Pon farr, Doctor. It-” 

The Vulcan fought with all he could to keep from doubling over in pain. Through gritted teeth, he righted himself and stood in front of the doctor. Commander Spock fought with all he could to keep the intense emotions and urges to himself for most of the week, but time was rapidly winning the battle. He finally submitted to the most logical conclusion, that being paying a visit to the younger doctor. 

_The younger_ Human _doctor_ , he thought as he watched him tear through the textbooks. There was no way for certain that a human would be able to assist at all in such a situation. 

_Not with this…_

 

A few colored pieces of paper that acted as makeshift bookmarks fluttered from the book as it was held open on the issue in question. 

“Pon farr…well…,”the doctor huffed and muttered through the descriptions and symptoms. Using three other books placed on the laboratory table in front of him, he thumbed through the history of Vulcan’s past, and the effect of the Plak tow that was soon to follow afterwards. After his research, McCoy stared at the Vulcan with his jaw slightly slack. Death seemed like a pretty serious side-affect from not have sex for a while.

 Sensing that the doctor found the topic of dire shame, the Vulcan’s cheeks tinted a slight olive.

 

“Why in the hell did ya not say somethin’ sooner?” he halfway hissed at the alien. “If you knew sometin' like this was gonna happen, I coulda’ worked somethin’ out for ya!” The doctor’s controlled accent leaked whenever he became irritated, making it seem as though he became another person during emotional fits.

Spock felt the concern-mixed anger radiate from the doctor. Normally, he would have filtered the man’s usual attitude, but with each passing minute, the lecture began to affect him and he raised a hand, covering the human’s mouth.  A surprised McCoy let out a quiet gasp, blue eyes widening  at the action. He did not take the chance at moving, lest he provoke the stronger male, and stood still. 

“Doctor.” Spock sighed heavily and fought to keep from crushing the human’s jaw. “I am fully aware of the urgency of my current situation. I regret not telling you sooner, but I felt as though you may not have been of any help to me. Now I am, as you say, in a sticky situation.” His hand shuddered as he tried to control his shaking. 

“It seems that I was correct in that assumption and I shall attempt to meditate on my current issue at hand. I shall be in my quarters..” He withdrew his hand and turned on his heel to leave the examination room. 

 

Still not sure of his decision and partway from the shock of the peaceful alien almost making him eat through a straw, McCoy offered the only advice he knew would work. Even though he did not care for Spock’s extreme coldness, McCoy’s doctor core values trumped all, and did not allow the pointy-eared man to suffer from some alien sex disease. Spock trusted him enough to come for help during a very private matter. 

He grabbed the taller male’s shoulder and yanked roughly, properly acquiring his attention. Knowing that he would probably regret his decision later on, he squeezed his eyes shut as the words left his mouth.

 

                “Well, dammit, Spock, I can help ya!” 


	2. A Breach of Trust

Spock stood still in his tracks as the doctor spoke. 

Slowly, he turned around and faced the shorter male, looking directly in his eyes, searching the soft amber that stared back. 

“You state that you would be willing to help me. Do you not understand what that may entail? My issue is not something that can be simply fixed with your medicines.”

He walked towards the doctor, shortening the distance between the two, filling his personal space. He needed him to understand how dangerous and serious his situation was. Pon farr was not a casual event that could be handled carelessly. 

“This is something that I cannot avoid. Making an offer to me is not something to be toyed with. If you are indeed serious, then, it is of great importance that we begin the bonding process-“

Sudden sharp pains ripped through Spock’s torso, causing him to cry out. The doctor’s instincts kicked in and he latched to Spock’s side, looped an arm through his, and tried to usher him to an empty bed. The sudden intrusion of space startled Spock and he wrenched the doctor’s arm from his own and shoved the younger male away from him. McCoy fell hard into a thankfully empty shelf. The test tubes it normally would have housed were in an autoclave for the morning. The tube holders lay broken or crushed under the doctor’s body.

Spock curled on the floor next to the bed and whimpered quietly. He struggled to keep any emotions in check and failed. Tears slowly crept from his closed eyes and he curled tighter into a ball, hoping to squeeze the pain away from his abdomen. 

Despite the attack, the doctor tried his luck with Spock again.

“You gotta stand up and let me help you. I need to get you onto a bed and lemme see if I can do something..!”

Shaking, the alien complied, backed up a few feet and slowly sat down, turned and stretched out. His stomach lurched and a migraine began to grow behind his eyes. McCoy’s scanner hummed by his right ear and passed over to his left, beeping and chirping as it detected any abnormalities. 

“Hm. Elevated blood pressure. Slight fever.” He hovered over Spock, muttering more notes to himself and mixing various liquids. Glasses tinked and metal scraped quietly against metal as the doctor produced a clean hyponeedle and the slight amber liquid he concocted. 

“Alright. This is a little Vulcan Naptime, specially formulated for you. Even if it doesn’t put you to sleep, it should calm you down a little. The way your hormones are ragin’ now, I doubt it’ll even work. ”

Spock felt the tiny prick of the needle in the crook of his shoulder and sighed as the pressure left his forehead. Indeed, the medicine did not take the ripping sensation away, but it did lessen the pain. 

He opened his eyes and tried to sit up, only to be pushed gently back down by the doctor. 

“Don’t start movin’ around, now. You need to rest. Give the medicine time t’kick in.”

“Doctor, I-“

“Rest, dammit! That’s an order! “

Spock pursed his lips in protest, but did not say anything to invoke the doctor’s rage. Content with the silence, the doctor continued with his protocol, disposing the needle and noting the dosage of the medicine in his PADD. 

Settling back down on the bed, Spock could only watch the doctor busy himself around the room. He closed his eyes decided to shut out the human’s energy by meditating. 

The man’s mutable nature confused and intrigued Spock to no end. Someone with such an unstable nature took up a profession where it was essentially a requirement to be calm and patient. His bedside manner was borderline atrocious. He cursed, fumed, threatened, demanded and delivered insults. 

But for whatever reason, Spock never ceased to be intrigued by him. 

Despite his very simple and crude manner, the human was quite intelligent, easily keeping pace with his theories and discussions. He was one of the few people that he grew to respect and care for, not that he allowed anyone to know that he did such a thing. Despite his best suppression techniques, McCoy could always detect the Vulcan’s moods, even if it took a lot of interrogational persuasion. Their half-hearted arguments, Spock came to realize, was a way to get him to “loosen up”. Through hidden context and emphasis on their pointless squabbles, the two Officers could express concern and comfort each other, in a secret code cleverly disguised as a debate.

Indeed, he was a very interesting human. 

The churning within his stomach made it impossible to focus on his meditation, and with an impatient sigh, he sat up, taking the risk of the tongue-lashing that was soon to follow. His ears, however, were met with a quiet room, save for the soft beeping of a monitor that detected his movements. 

McCoy had left the room while Spock meditated, probably as to not disturb him. 

The shaking began again, though not as violently as before. The monitor beeped angrily along with his sudden spike in heart rate.

_How could McCoy leave me here alone?_

Spock feared the doctor went back on his word about helping him. 

Spock swung his legs over the side of the table and slid off, silencing the monitor. As he headed towards the door, it buzzed harshly, denying him an exit. 

[Safety protocol 11024. Voice command lock. Exit denied.], the door informed. 

McCoy had locked Spock in alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **"Safety protocol 11024. Voice command lock. Exit denied"  
> Not exactly sure if that is a real protocol, but it sounded legitimate.


	3. Signs of Instability

Christopher Pike had not made it easy, but McCoy managed to get Spock a week-long sick leave. 

 The snarky old man had questioned the young doctor about his star Commander, and wanted to know why someone that hardly takes a bathroom break would need an entire week off.  

McCoy gave a nice shit-topped medical babble story. The Vulcan Stomach Flu seemed like something no one would question.

“Well, after classes are done, I’m gonna swing by and see him. If he even appreciates it, anyway.” The older man gave a gruffy sort of chuckle at the thought of the Vulcan receiving a ‘get well’ card. 

“NO!” McCoy popped. He did not want to violate Spock’s intergalactic crisis. 

“N-no… _sir_!” he added as an afterthought. “He’s contagious all to shit. I don’t need you catching some damned alien flu!” 

Pike nodded, agreeing with the punk’s assessment. He was fiery and unconventional, but McCoy wasn’t a Chief Medic for no good reason. 

McCoy left the Captain’s office in a well-concealed rush, hoping to get back to the medical bay before Spock woke up. The last thing he wanted to do is pump him full of sedatives while he was going through his alien menopause, but just in case, he made two more needles as he had slept. He needed time to figure out what, if anything he could do to help the Vulcan, and perhaps he would be easier to deal with asleep. 

As he arrived to the smooth doors of the medical bay, he noticed the doors held an odd curve they never had before. 

A dull thud echoed from the other side of the doors as a new dent was added to the formerly straight object. An alarm buzzed weakly, stating that the doors were locked under voice protection. Spock apparently was awake and not exactly happy. 

“Shit!” McCoy hissed. “Fuckin’ Vulcan ape! He’s gonna tear my lab apart! ” 

The door, despite its injuries, inquired of his identification and admitted him entrance, though it labored to open fully. 

Armed with only the PADD and a pre-made hyponeedle, McCoy prepared to go to war with the Science Officer. 

********** 

The doctor ducked just in time to avoid the alien’s fists. Spock’s target was taken away when the doors opened, and he wound up swinging at McCoy’s head. 

As the doors closed behind him, he barked another locking command at the door’s panel. 

“Wah-! Spock, dammit, I’m not a punching bag!” the medic yelped. “Calm down!” 

As he narrowly avoided another frightening punch, he readied the needle and aimed for the Vulcan’s thigh. The needle hissed as it made contact and Spock began to buckle slightly from the medicine. 

He fell backwards onto the doctor, still making a rather sluggish attempt at trying to remove the human’s head from his shoulders. 

“Y-youu..! You left me!” he slurred. “You agreed to help me!” his eyes held a wild look that McCoy had never seen before. 

“I _am_ helpin’ ya, Spock! I need to be alive to do it, however..” he squirmed from under the taller male and rolled him in a seated position.  “Alright. Upsy-fuckin’ dasy..onto the bed, you..”

The alien refused to move, instead looking into the doctor’s face. 

“Why did you leave me here alone, locked in this room like an animal?” his fists clenched and unclenched. McCoy shifted slightly next to him on the floor.

“Well, I had to get permission from your loving father to get you a week off,“  he began. 

Spock pounded the floor with a fist, leaving a rather remarkable dent. McCoy’s heart fell into his crotch. He knew he would have to pay for the damage with his soul. 

“A week?! Doctor, I don’t have much time with my particular condition, and you requested a week…”

Tears welled in the Vulcan’s eyes, but he turned in time to prevent the doctor from seeing. He understood the doctor’s sympathy, but having a week off to recover would not solve his problem; he basically had less than a day and a half to live. 

Before McCoy could offer any sort of useful comfort to Spock, the medicine took full effect, and the alien sagged, falling back over onto the doctor. 

With a sigh, McCoy rolled him back over into the seated position and scooted behind the sleeping Vulcan, sitting back-to-back with him. 

_What in the natural fuck did you volunteer yourself into, Len?_

Taking a deep breath, he worked to get the older man onto the bed, this time strapping him down. 


	4. Medical Textbook Definition

Spock slowly woke to the soft rustle of pages turning. 

McCoy sat in a chair across from Spock’s bed with the same three Vulcan medical textbooks, flipping through indexes and cross-referencing his own hand-written notes. 

The monitors chirped the adjustment in Spock’s readings as he moved, and McCoy looked up. He rubbed his eyes and shut the books gently, stacking them in his lap. 

“ Mornin’, Sunshine, “ he smirked. “Had a good nap? “

Spock tried to rise from the bed, and felt the tension of the restraints. ‘’Doctor? What is the meaning of this?” He tugged at his wrist as a gesture. 

“The meanin’ of strapping you down? Well, “ He stretched, yawned, and gracefully scratched his stomach. “You were destroying a very expensive government-owned medical lab. I had to do something that would keep you from doing that again.”

Spock squeezed his eyes shut and sighed. He recalled being upset that he was left alone, but not doing anything warranting needing to be strapped down.  He began to explain his reasons, but the doctor cut him off with a wave of his hand. As usual, he predicted Spock and spared him a possibly embarrassing ordeal. The way he behaved was most illogical, but he was in a rather unpredictable mind set. 

“Look here, Spock, “ he leaned forward and looked into the Vulcan’s face. “I know why you were pretty damn pissed then. You prob’bly thought I was going leave you t’die. But I said that I was gonna help ya, and as sure as my middle initial is ‘H’, I’m gonna help ya.”  

He smiled and settled back in his chair, gesturing to the books nestled in his lap. 

“ ‘Sides. I’ve been readin’ up on your particular problems while you were asleep. I think I know what to do!”

Spock’s eyes widened slightly at what the doctor said. He tried to sit up, but the restraints tugged at him and he let out a small huff of annoyance. 

“Doctor, if you initiate any sort of-“

He was startled at the doctor unbuckling the strap on his right hand. 

“Spock, don’t worry about it! I know what to do. You don’t have to die!” 

McCoy forced Spock’s hand up and intertwined his fingers with his own. Their little and ring fingers were laced together and the other three digits stood straight against one another. 

Spock’s left eye began to twitch, and the bed beeped as fast as his pulse. 

“Doctor..!” he wanted to worm his fingers away, but some unseen force made him keep his and the doctor’s fingers together. The skin beneath his fingers seemed to buzz. Without really noticing, he relaxed and his breathing and pulse slowed.  

“See! Look!” the doctor beamed, not knowing what trouble he started. “You’re calming down already!”

“…Doctor..” Spock whispered,  “ You should not have stared this..”

McCoy furrowed his eyebrows, confused at what Spock was saying. Nothing was going on that was dangerous, at least, as far as he knew. 

“What do you mean? The book said that it would calm you down.  What’s wrong with that? Why is that so bad?”

Spock once again struggled to sit up, only to be restricted by the straps. McCoy released him since he was calmer, but threatened another needle at the moment of any hostility. He left the restraints on his legs to restrict his movement.

Spock let out a long, low sigh and began to explain. 

“Doctor, while I fully appreciate your assistance to quell me during this, I must caution you about what you have just done.” They no longer held hands, but the warm tingle still buzzed in Spock’s fingers. 

“While I understand that you were researching Vulcan physiology in an effort to ‘heal’ me, you may have failed in reading properly.”

The doctor’s chest seemed to deflate, feeling the slight sting of being insulted by the alien. 

“The methods that you have initiated are to be done in order to form a bond. Are you prepared to take such a responsibility?”

McCoy’s jaw worked, trying to filter his words. He did not want to say something to invoke the Vulcan’s anger. 

“Well, Spock, I figured that forming this ‘bond’ was not a major sense of alarm. The books all said that particular hand techniques like this one-” he held his fingers in the same position and automatically Spock laced his fingers with his. “Would help suppress the effects of Pon farr.  It seemed harmless to me, and it’s not so impossible that the next time you would need help, I could just do this until you felt better.”

The Science Officer let out a light chuckle and drew the medic closer. With their hands together again, McCoy could not get free. His heart jump-kicked his ribcage as he was pulled nose-to-nose with the Vulcan. 

“It is not that that simple, Doctor..“ Spock’s free hand worked at the straps on his legs. McCoy mentally cursed at his stupidity. Never give a psycho patient a way out. 

Fortunately, Spock was almost back to his normal, snarky self, save the strange look that shadowed in his eyes that McCoy had not noticed before. His breathing was shallow, almost labored. 

If he had not known Spock was a vegetarian, it seemed that he could have eaten him alive.

“Now that you have initiated the bonding ritual, we are, unfortunately, considered mates.”


	5. The Doctor's Resolve

The Vulcan’s words echoed in his head.  
Leonard carefully analyzed what he had heard. Maybe ‘mates’ means something completely different than what he was really thinking. On Earth, the word ‘mate’ meant different things depending on where you lived.  

_Shrimp on ‘Barbies’, and G’day and all._  
Did Vulcans have slang? Did they eat shrimp? That was ridiculous.  He would probably be deathly allergic to shrimp.  
McCoy’s thoughts raced, and he panicked.  
 _‘Now that you have initiated the bonding ritual, we are, unfortunately, considered mates.’_

There was no way that Vulcan would lie, damn him.  
 _‘…we are, unfortunately, considered mates.’  
_ McCoy swallowed, but his throat ran dry. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and he felt his stomach knot into a daisy chain.

Spock tilted his head, curious as to why the Doctor appeared ill.  
“S-Spock.” The doctor finally spoke. His knuckles were white and his eyes were glazed over, holding a faraway gaze at nothing in particular.  
“Spock,” he spoke in a whisper this time. “What do you mean by the term ‘mates’?” 

Spock generously supplied the Doctor with a physical demonstration by looming behind him, pining the smaller male against the bio bed. The Vulcan’s thin fingers laced once more with McCoy’s, trapping his hands under the strong grip. The tingling sensation returned and Spock sighed contentedly at the contact. Hovering close to McCoy, he purred into his ear. “’ _Mates_ ’, Doctor. Our minds, joining. Our hearts, one..” Leonard let out a ragged gasp as Spock ground against him. He could feel something prod at the cleft of his ass.  
“And our bodies in union.”

 He fought the urge to pull away and deploy that spare hypo, but the strong grip kept his hands firmly rooted to the bed, and from what he remembered reading, it was best to not provoke the Vulcan during this time. He did not want to take the chance at Spock becoming angry again.  
 _Fuck._ Why did he not read more carefully?  
 _It doesn’t matter_ , he told himself. _You said you would help him, no matter the cost_. 

McCoy swallowed again, ordering back any bile that threatened to surface. _A doctor helps a patient, end of story_.

 Spock began to grow impatient with McCoy’s lack of affections and bit into his earlobe. The sharp pain made the doctor jump, and the slightly wet sensation of Spock’s tongue traced the curve of his ear. Spock wanted to get things going, and it didn’t matter where, it seemed. Leonard felt helpless with his hands pinned, and could only try to fight back his reactions. Sickbay was just too open to be taken by Spock like this, and he wanted desperately to goad him into someplace more private. He pleaded silently to long-forgotten deities that something, _anything_ would happen that would interrupt this. It was odd that he sort of liked it….

He ground back into Spock’s movements. For someone that has sex every seven years or what the case was, he knew how to find all the right spots to-  
He froze, mentally slapping himself out of it. This was a medical procedure, and he needed to handle it as such. 

“ _Ah_ ….Spock. _Spock_!” he insisted as Spock began fondling with the buckle on his belt. He was not going to have his… _patient_ get carried away. 

Spock reluctantly stopped, his breath ragged. It appeared was condition was getting worse with each passing moment. He opted, instead, to nuzzle at the human’s neck, inhaling his scent. 

Repressing a sigh, McCoy continued. “Spock. I am going to carry this elsewhere. I will not allow my SickBay to be a Godamned  Vulcan porn show!” Spock decided to nip at the flesh he was currently interested in, and the doctor hissed. Why did this feel so damn _good_?  
“Very well, Doctor..” Spock purred. “I shall surely be close behind..” With an obviously lewd emphasis, the Vulcan pressed harder into the human under him.  
When the hell did Spock become a pervert?

 

_Remember. It’s for a medical emergency. Nothing more._


	6. A Second Medical Opinion

Leonard painstakingly goaded the Vulcan into his own quarters.  
He figured if he was going through some strange sex-sickness, it was best that he was in his own cabin. Spock would not detach himself from the doctor’s neck for some reason, and now he took up the habit of licking and sucking at his shoulders.  
 _Fuck_ if it didn’t feel good for some reason..but _why_?  
“I’m-I’ll be back, Spock. I’m going to get some things ready, and, uh, _ah_!..I’ll be back.”  
He finally pried the amorous alien from his person and made a dash for the medical bay. Making a slight left, he headed towards the xenobiology department. The smooth doors whisked open, and he collided into a white-clad doctor.  
“Oh, thank the Lord! Geoffery, it's you!” The dark-skinned male calmly straightened his uniform and tilted his head slightly.  
“Doctor? What can I do for you at such an hour? Is everything fine?” McCoy huffed at the other doctor’s reaction; it reminded him of something Spock would do.  
 Dr. M’benga was human through and through, but since he studied medicine on Vulcan, he acted the part of a Vulcan very well. He was probably one in another life or something. “Well, I’m about as fine as a sinner in church right now, I’ll tell ya,” McCoy began. As he recanted his tale, explaining the ratio of medicines he administered to Spock as well as his behavior during his ‘time’, M’Benga’s eyes widened with each passing minute. He backed away in a fury, wanting to place as much distance between himself and his colleague.  
  
“Doctor..” he whispered in a surprisingly horrified tone. “Why are you here? Please return to the location where Commander Spock is located.” McCoy was shocked at his reaction. “Well, I need you to help me with him. You’re the expert an’ all; I came here for advice!” M’Benga inched farther still from McCoy, trying to osmosis through the wall behind him. “Doctor, if Commander Spock has indeed chosen you as his mate, you must return to him to execute your duties. He will come looking for you, as his only thoughts are focused on mating. No one will be able to stop him, not even with regards to rank.” He swallowed hard. “Even though he knows me, right now, I will be considered a challenge to his claims to you.”  
“’ _Duties’_?! What?! I’m not somethin’ for him to claim!” McCoy griped.  
“It matters little with Vulcan males in this state, Doctor,” M’Benga insisted. “ _Please_ , I urge you, return to him lest-“

But it was too late; the door slid open, and Spock filled the opening. His breathing was labored like before, and he emitted a low growl. He seemed a little… _bigger_ …almost like he injected a few shots of steroids. McCoy mirrored M’Benga’s reaction and shrunk against the wall next to him. The dark-skinned doctor scooted away as fast as he could from McCoy and hunkered in another corner of the room.  
“ _Doctor_ ,” he hissed. “ _Please_ , I beg you…go with him! Your presence here makes me a target.”

“Why does it matter if you’re here?!” McCoy cired. “You don’t want me, right? I don’t get it!” Spock took a few steps, and in a matter of minutes came between the two men, separating them. He glared fiercely at M’Benga and bore his teeth.

 No one was going to take his mate from him… 

“There is nothing to ‘get’, Doctor,” M’Benga whispered harshly. “He has simply chosen you because you initiated the contact, and now you must continue. He has already marked you with his scent and he followed you here.” McCoy felt helpless; not even the Vulcan expert could help him. His stomach sank into his feet as he accepted his fate. “Spock!” he stood up, trying to attract the Vulcan’s attention. “Spock, look at me!”  Indeed, he turned to his mate and followed his voice. McCoy noted Spock’s appearance: his usually perfect hair was a mess that stuck out at odd angles, and his eyes were dilated. _About thirty percent or so_ , the medical side of his brain noted. It..oddly was attractive. McCoy shifted his stance to suppress his cock from reacting as it did before. He would not feel this way about his _patient_.   Thankfully, Spock still had his uniform on. It would be a grand disaster if he were wandering the halls naked.  And… “Spock!” McCoy chided. “Where in the _hell_ are your shoes?!” 

While the Vulcan was distracted, M’Benga quietly took the chance at an escape. Spock heard the slight movements and faced the doctor again. Geoffery froze, as still as a mantis, and slowly raised his hands, palms up. Somehow, this calmed Spock, McCoy noticed. “Commander.” M’Benga shifted his gaze downwards, avoiding any contact with Spock’s eyes. “I am Geoffery M’Benga. I mean you no disrespect to you and your mate.” 

McCoy scoffed quietly _. I’m not anyone’s mate_.

M’Benga bent his head low, his chin practically touching his chest. His hands were still exposed for Spock to see. Spock heaved a deep sigh and nodded slowly, acknowledging the doctor’s nonthreatening stance. “Very well, M’Benga,” he gruffed. He returned his attention to McCoy and gathered him up like a sack of feathers. McCoy let out a surprised yelp as the Vulcan returned to his favorite spot at the doctor’s neck and latched on. Helplessly, the doctor felt a small trickle of blood run down his neck, blotting on his shirt. He never bit that hard before, and now he was afraid.  
M’Benga took the opportunity to leave once more. He knew that there was no hope in saving McCoy, however, he could offer him a bit of help. “Doctor. When you have the opportunity, access the information in my PADD. It will help you..”  
As the door slid shut behind his last chance of salvation, McCoy didn’t think _anything_ could help him now.


	7. Prescription

 

There was no leading the raging Vulcan back to his room now, and he was too deep into his sickness to be convinced otherwise.  
The best McCoy could do, however, was utilize an examination table that was in the next room of M’Benga’s office. Spock wasted no time in attacking McCoy’s neck, licking the wound he started. He was pinned, like before, between the Vulcan and the table. The tingle he felt from the Vulcan’s hands before now felt like a burn. With alarming savagery, Leonard felt the pants being torn from his body. His belt stretched and ripped as though it was a piece of licorice under Spock’s grip, and now he was naked from the waist down. His shirt was removed in like fashion, and he hissed at the exposure to the cool air of the medical office. Behind him, Spock, who was somehow already nude, ( _and when?)_ thrust behind him. McCoy was not given the chance to gather the items to needed or prepared himself to make the ordeal less painful.  
Unfortunately, he had to ride the Vulcan dry.  
 _“Oh, GOD!”_ Leonard gasped. Spock dove into him without warning, ramming him into the table.  His own cock bruised against its cold metal surface with each thrust. He could feel himself ripping as the Vulcan entered him again and again. The familiar coppery odor of blood filled the air as Spock brutally pounded in and out of his body. Leonard gave a throaty moan as the Vulcan took him raw; the pain was unbearable, and he blinked back a few tears.  
Pon farr, McCoy had imagined, would just be _sex_ , the kind that you have casually after one too many drinks with someone attractive at a bar. Spock just seemed like he wanted to tear him in half with his dick and probably just continue fucking him afterwards. This was an unusual contrast to his well-mannered demeanor, almost barbaric.  
McCoy wanted badly to call what was happening as a medical procedure, to try and claim that it was for _Spock's_ benefit. The doctor should only be concerned for the welfare of his patient.   
 _A selfless service._  
His body refused to remain impartial to what was happening, and began to betray him. Spock’s hips met the doctor’s ass with rhythmic slaps each time he thrust, filling him to the hilt.  Leonard found himself getting used to the sensation of being repeatedly filled by the alien’s cock and mewled when it grazed his prostate. His back arched to meet the Vulcan’s movements each time and his aching member leaked onto the table with each thrust. Leonard came over the examination table, leaving a sticky trail on the smooth surface.  
“Ah, Spock! _Spock!_ ”  
 _I am assisting a patient, dammit.  
_ _“Yes! OhFUCKyes!”_  
Nothing more. Nothingmorenothingmore-“Right there, yes, darlin’! Right. _Fuckin.’_ There!”  
McCoy was unsure if it was the praise or not, but Spock gave a long drag of his rough tongue across the doctor’s back. He inhaled the male’s scent deeply and bit into his shoulder.The doctor cried out again in a mix of pain and pleasure. Spock's fingertips dug deeply in McCoy’s hips, and he was pounded unbearably harder. Spock’s ragged gasps and pants signals that he is coming close to his release, and McCoy begins to panic.  
 _Would Vulcan jizz be hot? Would it be poisonous?_ ! _What if it’s sharp?!Oh dear Lord!_ If he lived through this, he would read M’Benga’s PADD like a Bible.  
  
Spock bit into his mate’s shoulder as he finally came, emitting a long, deep moan. The Vulcan’s seed was hot, not searing, as McCoy had feared. Huffing and panting heavily, Spock stayed attached to the doctor for a few minutes more.He gently nipped the human’s ear, licking at its curves. McCoy experienced a slight arrhythmia just then as the Vulcan’s hot breath played on his skin.  
“Mine,” Spock muttered darkly, before sliding out of McCoy’s ravaged hole. Before McCoy could muster the energy to do anything, the Vulcan’s eyes hooded, and he passed out from his exertions. Despite making an immediate hard acquaintance with the floor, Spock managed to find it suitable for a nice after-fuck nap. McCoy, on the other hand, could only shake in the cold air of the lab. He felt like a pathetic mess as he assessed the damage from the recent activity.  
His clothes were torn, his anus was sore, possibly raw, and several bruises were starting to bloom on his hips. There was no telling what sort of damage there was to be had on his neck. Vulcan semen and blood trickled down his thighs, and his phallus ached from being squeezed between his body and the table. 

  
His knees finally gave up, and he sunk to the floor next to Spock who was quietly snoring. 

 

_How in the world could I have enjoyed that?_  
  


 


	8. M'Benga's Notes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for it being so late, everyone...!  
> As punishment for my gross tardiness, another chapter shall be posted tonight.

McCoy nestled Spock in one of the wooly blankets he found in M’Benga’s closet. He didn’t want Spock to freeze on the cold floor.  
As he wrapped one around his own waist, he set out immediately to find the Holy PADD. He found it on M’Benga’s desk on his way to the bathroom. He wanted to clean up in the worst way, and the sticky mess between his legs didn’t have the most pleasant smell. As far as he could tell, M’Benga did not have a shower in his office; it was much smaller than his own, so he settled for doing a quick cat bath in the sink.  
The light blue screen of the device welcomed him after he keyed in the standard medical personnel code, and he scanned the different links.  
“Holy _shit_! He must have every alien species on this thing!” With the neat alphabetical listing, he quickly found the title ‘Vulcan’. He thumbed the text, and the screen filled with M’Benga’s neat handwriting.  
  
 _(The Vulcan’s ancient text describes a tremendously terrible time from their early stages in development. They all revert back to their savage ancestry during various times throughout their lives. This time cycle, called Pon farr, is the single most point of shame for the entire species, and has not been bred out from the ancient time..)_  
  
As he continued to read on, he turned the faucet on and ran the water a bit to get it nice and hot. He rummaged through a nearby cabinet to find some form of soap and a cloth and towel. He grew bored of the general history of Pon farr and thumbed to the previous menu. The link ‘Vulcan Mating Habits’ that had a tab for ‘Male’ caught his eye and he clicked it. This was the Holy passage in the Good PADD that he sought. With a nervous glance to the slumbering alien, he began to read.

 _(During the male Vulcan’s Pon farr cycle, many physical and mental traits can easily be distinguished._  
 _With the Vulcan’s modern vow to nonviolence and avoidance of aggression, the visual signals are a shock to observe.)_  
  
“And, boy, ain’t it,” McCoy muttered to the device. He stuck his fingers under the stream of water, testing the temperature. It was still running a bit too cool for his liking. What, was it broken or something?

 _(During the male’s cycle, many physical and mental changes can be easily observed. Weeks prior to his cycle, the male may begin to mark his territory using specialized scent glands located under the chin *see Vulcan Physiology >Male*, he will rub against any object he desires to claim. Each male has his own scent, and this deters other males that may pose a threat to what he regards as his own. This scent is located in bodily fluids including blood, tears, urine and semen. )  
  
_McCoy took a self-conscious whiff of the general air and winced. Spock’s special sauce didn’t have a _terrible_ smell, but it wasn’t something he would bottle and sell. He sighed as the tested water was still cool to the touch. He was desperately considering taking his sink-bath cold.  
  
 _(After selecting his desired mate *see Vulcan Bonding*, the male may begin to mark her as well. The female, usually submissive after detecting the male’s cycle, will stay close to the male throughout his entire cycle. Other males that attempt to take the chosen female will endeavor to mark the female as their own. Any challenging males will fight for the female’s affections._  
 _The victor will once again mark the female; if the opposing male has won the female, he will form a new bond with her, and the marking process will begin once again._  
 _During this time, the female will not remove the male’s scent; he will suspect infidelity, and in extreme cases will react violently._  
 _The male Vulcan’s possessive and aggressive nature is a frightening display of the Vulcan’s primitive prowess.)_  
  
The doctor jumped up and shut the water off. He hated the way he smelled right now, but he didn’t want to risk Spock chewing at his neck again. Quietly but quickly, he gathered the blanket and the PADD with him and left the little bathroom. He opted to nestle as closely as he could to Spock without disturbing him. When he went down the hall, he got fucked nine ways to the next quadrant. He did not want to test Spock by leaving the room.  
He flipped through more of the text, occasionally stopping on an interesting paragraph or two. Afterwards, he moved to the top of the page, and went on to the link on ‘Vulcan Bonding’.  
  
 _(Bonding is a key component in the Vulcan’s cycle._  
 _It ensures a permanent union between the two Vulcans, and provides success in producing offspring; the couple mates for life, and thusly increases the likeliness of descendants in a clan.)_  
  
McCoy paused, furrowing his brow and biting his lower lip.  
If Pon farr and bonding was all about finding a mate and having children, why was it working on another male? A _human_ male, at that..

And permanent? Did that mean he essentially would have to marry Spock?  
  
 _You’re really in deep now, Len. Holy. Fuck. A Vulcan marriage. You barely made it with your first one._  
  
Behind him, the Vulcan stirred. McCoy froze, clutching the PADD to his bare chest for dear life. He was hoping to read more before Spock ripped him open again. To his relief, Spock only rolled over and continued to sleep, his chest rising and falling peacefully. McCoy carefully tried not to touch him and read more.

  _(In some instances, genetic anomalies occur within the Vulcans that causes an aversion to seeking a bondmate with the opposite sex and instead to one of close repeated proximity. This rare event is accepted among society, however, is regarded with extreme disdain. *see Ancient Vulcan >Rituals*)_  
  
“The opposite sex?” McCoy echoed quietly. He looked over his shoulder at Spock. Mating the opposite gender without result is-  
“Illogical indeed,” Spock grumbled. He rotated so that he faced the doctor’s direction.

_How long had Spock been awake?!_

McCoy almost leapt out of his skin.  
 _  
_


	9. A Single Word

Sitting up, the groggy Vulcan leaned against McCoy. He contentedly breathed in the crook of the doctor’s shoulder and nuzzled, only this time more gently.  
It didn’t feel like Spock wanted to eat him anymore, and McCoy inclined his head to give Spock more access to his neck.

“I feel as though the worst of the symptoms are over,” he mumbled into the human’s neck. “However, I am still well within my cycle.”

“So I’ve read,” McCoy gestured to his electronic Book of  Psalms. “And what is with this…? _’Genetic anomalies’_? The same sex? What sense does _that_ make? I didn’t get the chance to read on that yet.”

Spock gave an audible huff of annoyance. He did not want to explain this concept, especially in his current state. There was no telling when he would begin to regress into the fever again, and he felt as though it was a waste of time. He obliged the doctor, however, and explaied.  
“There is a particular term for such a bond. Its roots stem from Vulcan’s ancient warlike past.”  
His slender fingers traced a line from the base of McCoy’s spine to the back of his neck, then around to lightly ghost on the meld points on his temples. The human’s skin erupted in goosebumps as the Vulcan’s fingers played on his body.  
/ T'hy'la / Spock’s voice said from somewhere and nowhere all at once.  
“…What?” McCoy was bewildered . “How…did you say that? And what does that mean?” He _felt_ rather than heard the strange word that Spock said.  
Still with his fingers on the doctor’s temple, Spock brought him in a tight embrace.  
“Relax your mind and open it to me. I shall explain in the best way that I can to you.”  
With a little uncertainty, McCoy placed the PADD down and settled into Spock’s arms. His skin burned against the human’s bare skin, still a result of the Pon farr. It was soothing in contrast to the cold room they were huddled in.  
 When he closed his eyes, McCoy was suddenly overcome with an intense _need_ , very desperate and ferocious. He felt confined, confused, angry and afraid all at once. The space that his mind rushed through seemed hot, suppressing and dry, almost like he walked into a broiler. There was noting that seemed to take this sweltering, miserable feeling away, and he shook from the sheer pressure.  
/Doctor../ Spock’s calming voice from the nothingness made the horrible feeling wisp away like a fog in the morning sun. He could feel Spock’s hug tighten around his body, and the sensation vanished completely. The shaking stopped, and he let out a sob.  
/I apologize, Doctor. I did not quite shield that section of my mind from you as properly as I should have../  
McCoy gave a nervous laugh that reverberated in the space they shared.  
/It’s not a problem. I trust you to know what you’re doing with this..mind stuff. And don’t call me ‘Doctor’ while I’m just floating in your brain. I have a name y’know!/  
/Yes, Doctor, I am well aware./ The Vulcan’s hidden smile could be felt, and McCoy rolled his eyes.  
The smile broadened, and McCoy felt a warm shiver run through his body. Every small emotion could be felt through this strange…link?  
/Bond,/ Spock corrected gently. /This is the bond that you researched previously./  
McCoy nodded. Text that he recalled from the Holy PADD echoed into the air, spoken in the Doctor’s voice. It was articulated in a nervous hush, reflected during the short time that Spock lay asleep on the floor.  

/T’hy’la, / Spock repeated. The word was spoken in a whisper that buzzed under McCoy’s skin.  
 /It could be given the Terran equivalent of the word ‘best friend’, or ‘brother’. ‘Longtime companion’ would be a more sufficient term.  Before Vulcan’s reformation, the title was given to a friend that would give his life for yours without hesitation./  
 Spock made the space darken slightly as he struggled to explain it, reflecting the dark flush that grew on his cheeks. McCoy felt how uncomfortable it made him, and he felt a warm blush mirror on his own cheeks as well.  
 /At the time while Vulcans were warlike hunters, the word was used to describe a brother-in-arms. This brother would ultimately form a close relationship, even to the point where, during your Pon farr, he would risk assisting you rather than witness your death to the fever. The results of the earliest attempts are unknown, but recent successful documented cases suggests that males bond with little to no difficulty./  
  
McCoy absorbed the last echoes of Spock’s words.

/So…/ The blush crept farther up his face, and Spock’s breath hitched as he felt McCoy’s thoughts. /If we form this bond, then../  
The heavy threat of the bond becomming permanent freightened McCoy. The possibilites of it being strictly lust-based made him feel as though he were taking advantage of a very sick alien.  
After all, since the divorce, he had been busy, and sex was not easy to work in his schedule. Spock just happens to need sex to be cured, and it all conveniently fell into place.  
Througout the course of the strange ordeal with Spock and his cycle, however, McCoy _did_ feel a sort of bond with him. The professional part of him argued that forming a bond with a patient was an extremely dangerous sort of gamble. Becomming emotionaly attached was not in the best interest of the doctor _or_ his patient.

Spock nudged the meld point deeper and the doctor gasped quietly. His body tingled and he felt his mind being pulled towards the Vulcan. It did not seem like a run-of-the-mill 'doctor/patient' bond.  
Not with the way his body bent practally in half for the Vulcan.

/Yes,/ Spock breathed. The heat radiated into the shared space again, and it absorbed McCoy. The desperate craving wracked his body and reflected in Spock’s mind. McCoy understood the great lengths that Spock went through to keep this sort of feeling under control. It was almost intolerable for him to endure, and it had only been a few minutes since they formed the link. Spock was beginning to stir again, and the heat of the need churned his insides.  
/We will become one, Leonard./

Even through the thick hospital blankets, McCoy felt the pressure of Spock’s arousal at the small of his back. While still in the bond, he could feel the pressure that Spock felt.  
/Spock, my _God_ …/ McCoy inched back, enough to press the Vulcan’s member between the layers of cloth. /Is that.. _you_ that I’m feeling , or is that… _me_?/  
The Vulcan let out a dangerously low purr and assaulted McCoy’s bare shoulder. He snaked a hand under the blanket and felt the doctor’s growing erection.  
/What _I_ feel, _you_ feel as well, my T’hy’la./ 

At some point, McCoy felt the cold floor against his back as Spock pressed against him, the blankets tangled in their legs, the doctor’s throbbing penis rubbed warm and slick between their stomachs.  Each bite, lick, touch and thought echoed through the bond, their physical and mental sensations beginning to blend. He did not feel the pain this time, only pleasure as he felt the Vulcan enter his body, gasping at how relatively much cooler he felt to Spock.  
Spock’s hips moved slowly, drawing back then pushing in, feeling the full force of the doctor’s explosive pleasure. Cooler skin, slick with sweat, moved across his back as Leonard wrapped his legs and arms around his body, pulling the two closer together physically and mentally. The mental space they shared rippled with the brilliant shock of their combined orgasms.

The doctor’s resolve had finally been broken by a single word.

 

_Th’y’la._


End file.
